It's different
by damnitjane
Summary: What did they talk over after leaving the FBI offices that night? A conversation between two people trying to figure it all out. 7.08 tag.


They didn't speak the entire elevator ride, nor as they got into Lisbon's car. The silence was thick and enveloping between them. Jane watched as Lisbon threw the car into drive and looked straight ahead out of the windshield ahead of her into the darkness. He put his finger to his lips in nervous habit, turning from her and looking out of the passenger side window to the lights blurring past them.

Finally, as they halted at a stop light, Jane could no longer take the silence from her. He rather her yell at him or scold him fervently instead of this silence. It was insufferable to know she was upset but unable to dig into her mind to find the justifiable thoughts that were now racing through her mind.

"I don't want to leave it like this, Lisbon," he told her, turning from the window and watching as her fingers clasped tighter on the steering wheel. "I meant what I said. We'll work it out."

The light turned green and she pressed her foot to the gas, going through the intersection before she even gave a hint she had been listening to what he said. He knew she didn't want to talk about it right now, but Jane knew the way to get people to keep dialog open was to hit them while it was fresh.

"What's there to work out here, Jane?" she replied, her voice low and strained. "You either let me do my job, or you figure out something to deal with it."

Jane chuckled despite the seriousness of the topic. He was in love with her. Couldn't she see that all he wanted to do was protect the one thing in this world that mattered to him? Sure. Her profession gave her an excuse to counter with, but so did his being in love with her, too. They both had reasons to be right. He didn't blame her for wanting to do her job. Her job was a problem, but it was more the very thought of losing her to it that was the basis for his detour he sent her on; wanting to protect her life. Protect _his_.

"It's not funny, Jane. You made me feel incompetent tonight," she told him, shaking her head off his chuckle. "Like I couldn't possibly be careful enough or handle myself."

"I'm sorry," replied Jane softly. "That wasn't my intention."

"What _was _your intention, Jane?" Lisbon sighed. "It's deeper than just protection, Jane. You've seen me in the danger zone before. Why the change?" She shook her head at him.

Jane put his palms on his knees and rubbed the pooling sweat from them. She couldn't know how many times, when she had come close to death, that he had to stop his mask from slipping. There were times that his self-control had nearly crumbled into a mass of dust at his feet. She couldn't know the many times he had gone through different scenarios in his mind that would bring him to his knees if they happened.

Jane shrugged his shoulder and exhaled sharply. "I told you, Lisbon. It's different."

"How so?" Lisbon asked, perturbed by Jane's evasiveness. "Illuminate me."

"Do you know how many times I wish I could have gone back and changed what happened and kept her alive? How many times I wish I would have protected her in any way I could have? Teresa, this isn't about my inability to let you do your job. This is about me not wanting to bury another woman I love."

There was a silence after that. Lisbon knew he meant Angela. He saw the slight pity in her eyes as he looked over at her. She had no idea how much he wished he could have changed the course of what happened years ago. He knew that was selfish of him to wish, but wish he did. He didn't want to have to sit through another funeral and bury another woman he loved. He couldn't do that- wouldn't do that.

"Jane," she finally said, her voice small. "I'm a trained professional. You have to let me do what I get paid to do. I know it's hard watching me put myself in the target viewer, but you knew the dangers of the job before we even became what we are."

"I know," he agreed. "But you have to see how it's not going to be easy, Teresa. They are my plans most times. What if I am the reason you get hurt? Or worse?"

Lisbon turned the car into the small lot that led to the Airstream. She cut the engine and turned to him, looking at his face in the dim light of the moon filtering in the car. She could see that his face had turned sullen.

"Jane," she called lowly. "You have to let me go do my job. You can't hold yourself responsible for things that may not even happen. This isn't what happened years ago with Angela, Jane. That wasn't your fault, either. The sooner you stop blaming yourself, the sooner you can understand that I have a job to do and you need to let me do it."

"But you understand my position?" he asked. "What if the role was reversed, Lisbon?"

Lisbon shook her head. "I'd let you do your job, Jane."

"Well, it's my job to keep you safe, Lisbon."

"No," she laughed darkly. "It's not."

"We'll have to disagree, then."

She shook her head at him and grabbed the keys from the ignition. They both got out of the car and headed to the Airstream. Jane had to admit he was a little surprised she was coming inside with him.

"I guess you're not that upset?" he asked as he took out his Airstream key from his pocket.

"I have my own torture devices for bad boys," she replied.

His eyebrows arched up, but Lisbon shook her head.

"Another lullaby?" Jane asked, slightly horrified.

"This time, let's make it _It's My Life_. Fits, I guess," she laughed.

For now, the argument was put behind them. Jane suspected that wouldn't last. But he'd tell her he didn't want to lose her, and whatever else he was thinking. For right now, he just wanted to cuddle her to him and revel in the fact she was alive and his. They'd work it out. They been here before. Many times.


End file.
